


Give and Take

by SkylynnShimmertail



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bite marks, Breastfeeding, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Gen, M/M, No Smut, Teeth, The Dinobots are scary, but not intended to be, but they don't mean to be, could be taken as slash, embarrassed Hot Rod, last chapter is fluffy, surprisingly...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6118498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylynnShimmertail/pseuds/SkylynnShimmertail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hot Rod reaches maturity, the Dinobots take an unusual interest in a certain part of his anatomy. Apparently, the Dinobots desire a nursemaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grimlock

**Author's Note:**

> So, am I kicked out for this? I thought of this just yesterday and I wanna give Quiet_Shadow credit, because I was inspired by their Wetnurse series, that I enjoyed!

Hot Rod stared at his exposed feeding pouches. Pink energon dripped steadily from the nubs and spider webs of biolights were pulsing gently inside of the soft rubber. Hot Rod was looking at himself in the mirror of his quarters. When he woke up from stasis, he wasn’t sure what he was thinking or expected when he saw energon leaking from under the armor across his chassis. But he certainly wasn’t expecting to see two rapidly swelling sacs of energon attached to his protoform!

He knew what was happening, Ratchet had explained it to him not too long ago. Hot Rod had apparently reached the point in his life when he was able to reproduce. (Not that he had any intention of doing so anytime soon!) The Feeding pouches were his body’s way of checking and making sure everything had developed appropriately and that there were no bugs or viruses in his system.

He ran a hand over them; they felt warm and soft, they also felt very full and sore. Ratchet had told him that when he reached complete maturity, he would know. Well, he knows now!

Hot Rod turned away from the mirror and walked towards the door; he felt an unusual tingle when the cool air of the Ark brushed against them. Roddy peeked his head out of the door to make sure nobody was walking in the hallways. He didn’t want to run into anyone when he tried to make his way to Ratchet. 

Apparently, energon from feeding pouches was of a very “special” mix. It was richer, healthier and as Hot Rod discovered this morning, it had a very strong and delicious smell. Hot Rod had actually woken up thinking that someone had brought him a cup of morning energon. When sparklings are born, they are extremely underdeveloped; sightless, defenseless and completely reliant on their carriers. Energon from feeding pouches had to have a strong smell to make sure the sparkling latched onto the correct nub to get nourishment.

Unfortunately, this left the Carrier reeking of potent, enhanced energon.

Normally, Hot Rod wouldn’t mind being complemented; but the smell would immediately attract anyone young enough to be affected by it.

Roddy really wasn’t in the mood to be asked if he’d allow someone to suckle from him.

So, he needed to get to Ratchet. Ratchet had said that Hot Rod should come as soon as his energon began to flow. Roddy didn’t know why, but hopefully Ratchet could do something to make it stop.

Hot Rod closed his panels as tight as he could without pressing on the pouches. After looking down both ends of the hall he walked as quickly and as quietly as he could towards the infirmary. He left the door to his room open; hopefully anyone who passed by would think that he brought a cube of energon up. 

The hallways were completely empty, it was that perfect time of day when everyone who had day shift wasn’t up yet and everyone who’d had night shift had returned to their berths. Hot Rod had a feeling that Prowl and Red Alert were in the security room and they probably could see him. But they wouldn’t say anything. 

If there was anyone who would tease him relentlessly about his current predicament, it was the twins. Sides and Sunny would never let him live this down if they caught him. He could hear them now, blackmailing and laughing at him behind his back.

Kup was another that he needed to avoid. The old war-mech wouldn’t tease him per se, but he would probably give one of his lectures. Kup would most likely go on and on about preparations and knowing your body better.

_“When I was young, we made plans for times like this! Do you know what would happen if a bot’s energon started flowing in the midst of a laser fight? Pandemonium! Bots and Cons on both sides would twist a coil trying to grab ‘em. Just to make sure they could get a good drink before throwing the mech across the field like a grenade!”_

Oh boy, Hot Rod had to clear this up!

He was right down the hall from Ratchet’s office and he still had yet to see anyone. Maybe Primus had decided to smile on him after all! Hot Rod couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of himself.

Hot Rod reached a servo out to knock on the door when it opened on it’s own. Well, not on it’s own; something dark grey with red and yellow smashed into him. Hot Rod was tossed back into the wall of the hallway. 

**“Grr, you no get in me Grimlock’s way! Me, Grimlock in bad mood! Me Grimlock’s head feel weird!”**  

Hot Rod knew who was talking to him the moment he heard the botching of grammar and common sense told him to get up and move away. Everyone knew the Dinobots and everyone knew to stay away. Big, tough and hating to be bothered for anything except smashing; Hot Rod really didn’t want to deal with any of them right now, let alone the leader! 

Hot Rod put his servo on the wall behind him and tried to pull himself up.

“Sorry, Sorry” He muttered. “I just need to get in to see Ratchet.”

**“Him Ratchet not here! Me Grimlock want him help Grimlock! Me Grimlock feel strange!”**

Hot Rod looked at the Dino Warrior; Grimlock stood in front of him in Robot Mode. The Dinobot looked ticked off; well, he always looked like that, but today, he looked distinctly ticked. His blue visor was flashed and his claws were in tight fists.

Hot Rod was about to say that he would be leaving, as he had no reason to be there if Ratchet wasn’t there, when Grimlock froze. 

Grimlock’s fist loosened unexpectedly and he suddenly started looking at the sky and waving his helm around, as if he was looking for something. His gaze fell on the flame-colored Autobot in front of him. 

Hot Rod was going to ask what the deal was when Grimlock suddenly transformed into his Beast Mode. The giant metal T-Rex stood in front of him, moving his head from side to side, like he wanted to get a better look at something; and he was snorting, not unlike one of those dogs that Hot Rod had heard Daniel talk about. 

**“You Hot Rod smell nice…”** Hot Rod looked up in surprise. He wasn’t sure what to say. He’d known that it would be better to get to Ratchet without one of the others seeing him, but how would a Dinobot react to the smell of Carrier’s energon?

The answer: with disturbing interest.

Grimlock stalked closer to the Speedster, making him press against the wall. Hot Rod scooted back as far as he could, he didn’t like that big maw in his face and Grimlock’s breath was making him uncomfortable. Normally, he would brush of this little run in, but he didn’t want to push his luck when Grimlock was so close to his pouches. He’d seen Grimlock bite Con’s in half, what would those jaws do to a mech’s feeding pouches!

Grimlock nosed against Roddy’s chest, right over his spark. He snorted and sniffed like a bloodhound, pressing insistently at the chest plates. 

Hot Rod flinched when he felt something click in his chest, he suddenly felt a strange...pressure in his helm. His chest plates unhooked and he felt cool air and warm breathe against his pouches as they become exposed and hung off his frame, full and aching. 

Hot Rod wasn’t sure what to do! He was having a hard enough time trying to handle the strange sensation he was feeling in his chest, let alone being gawked at by a bot who probably had no idea what in the Pit he was looking at! 

Well, maybe not…

Grimlock didn’t laugh, or cringe in disgust. He just leaned in, level with Hot Rods chest and stared. The Tyrannosaurus seemed mesmerized by the sacs that hung in front of his nose. He inhaled and exhaled slowly; watching as the pouches trembled with Hot Rods body. Hot Rod tried to move off to the side, sliding on his aft to his left in an attempt to get away from the snout in front of him. But Grimlock only grunted and stepped to the side slightly, keeping the bot in front of him.

Grimlock could see the energon dripping steadily off the nubs of the pouches. Hot Rod shivered as he felt it drip off his body and he could see Grimlocks optics watch the droplets.

Grimlock opened his mouth slightly; warm air flowed over his jaws and condensed directly onto the pouches and Hot Rod closed his optics. The thought of that face so close made him nervous, but the sound of Grimlocks intake was doing something to his processor.

Hot Rod turned his head, and sighed; only to gasp in pain when Grimlock shut his mouth on the pouch.

Grimlock was not gentle, he tugged and bit Hot Rod and it was a miracle that he didn’t cause serious damage. Those sharp teeth punctured the sacs attached to Hot Rod and as Grimlock gnawed down harder, energon dribbled through the gaps between his teeth and splattered onto the floor.

Hot Rod tried to brace himself against the floor with his pedes; Grimlock was pulling him away from the wall! Hot Rod couldn’t pull away from him; Grimlock was much bigger than him. He could feel his pouches being torn by the metal teeth digging into him!

Hot Rod was no longer close enough to the walls to lean and he needed something for leverage, so he grabbed the only thing he could. Though in retrospect and in different circumstances, it would seem very stupid.

He placed his hands on both sides of the massive snout in front of him, the one that was full of many, sharp, deadly denta. Grimlock went stiff and rolled his optics towards Roddy’s face.

“Uh…” He didn’t think Grimlock would stop! Honestly, he thought the beastly Autobt would just keep tugging. But no, instead the T-Rex was staring at him with a pouch in his jaws and energon streaming through his teeth, making a mess everywhere!

When Hot Rod took a bit of a (slightly unwanted) closer look at the situation, he noticed that none of the energon was going down Grimlock’s throat. It was pooling in his jaw and as more flowed from the abused sac, it overflowed between his teeth. Grimlock lacked lip plates, so he couldn’t suck it down.

It probably wasn’t a good idea, but Hot Rod felt the need to help Grimlock get the energon into his tank. Roddy was no friendlier or on better terms with the Dinobots than anyone else, he had learned to tolerate them because Kup saw them as eager young bots to be taught, just like Hot Rod. So Roddy had learned to share space with them.

But why in the name of Cybertron would he want to help one of the temperamental mechs suck fluid from his pouch?! Not to mention the bite marks he would be dealing with once this debacle was done!

There was the possibility that Grimlock would release him once he got his fill, but he was never known to follow the customs of anyone else.

All right, Hot Rod was just trying to find excuses for what he knew he would end up doing, no matter the consequences or better judgment. 

Hot Rod placed a hand on the top of Grimlock’s head, towards the base. His other hand went underneath the nose, trying to make sure Grimlock’s lower jaw was prepped to catch the energon.

“Get low” Hot Rod grunted, shifting a bit when Grimlock tugged upward. “Put your weight on your arms.”

Grimlock looked at him and growled; the vibrations making his pouch tremble painfully in between steel fangs.

Hot Rod tried to make the Dinobot relax. “You can’t suck it down, put your head low and I can…” Hot Rod flushed red at what he was about to say. “I can squirt it down your throat.”

Grimlock narrowed his eyes, for a moment Hot Rod though he was about to tear his pouch clean off! But Grimlock huffed and with some effort, his tiny metal arms hit the floor and Grimlcok’s head was below Hot Rod’s chest. Not once, did Grimlock loosen his grip.

Hot Rod spread his legs for Grimlock to lie between. The Dinobot looked him in the face, his expression far from comforting.

Hot Rod gulped, he might no have wanted anyone to see him before; but boy, he could really use an officer right about now. But Grimlock had happened to pull this stunt in the one blind spot on the whole floor! No one could see this!

Hot Rod took a servo from Grimlock’s head and carefully cupped the part of the pouch that hadn’t been engulfed in teeth. Hot Rod took a shaky intake and squeezed gently.

He could feel energon spurt out of the nub and he heard it hit the inside of Grim’s mouth. He heard Grimlock swallow.

Grimlock gulped every few squirts and he closed his eyes in relaxation. Every swallow, Grimlock gave a soft, but not quite careful pull and Hot Rod would wince in pain each time. But he didn’t stop him. Hot Rod could also feel something warm and wet rubbing roughly against his nub inside of Grimlock’s mouth. Was the Dinobot licking him?

Hot Rod shivered when Grimlock put his claws on his knees.

Hot Rod wasn’t sure how long this went on. All he knew was that Grimlock suddenly blew a cloud of hot air into Hot Rod’s face and began to stand up. Hot Rod was pulled again, letting out small groans of pain. Grimlock was standing up completely before he _finally_ let go of Hot Rod’s pouch.

Hot Rod fell to the floor with little ceremony and Grimlock, who apparently didn’t think to close his mouth, splattered energon that had not been swallowed all over him, leaving him covered in glowing purple.

Grimlock took in the sight of Hot Rod covered in distilled energon and sitting on the floor, before he turned and walked down the hallway, his footsteps shaking the ground.

Hot Rod wiped the energon out of his optics and watched Grimlock leave. Was that it? No “sorry”, no “Thanks”, no “Nice rack” or “Good Drink”? As strange as it sounds, Hot Rod had at least expected Grimlock to say something when it was over.

The ache in his chest knocked him out of his offended stupor. He looked at his pouches and saw the bite marks that marred the rubber. What marks hadn’t perforated the exterior, left indentations and there were stains all over.

Hot Rod stared at the energon on his armor and the floor around him. What had happened? Well, he knew what happened, but what was going on with him? Why had he just let himself be used free energon dispenser? And by Grimlock of all bots!

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard footsteps coming up the hall towards him. Grimlock wasn’t coming for seconds was he?

Hot Rod looked up and saw Ratchet staring at him; a data pad in his servo and a surprised and confused look on his face.

“Uh…” What was it with that term today!? “…My energon came.”


	2. Sludge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What should have been a soothing wash, turns into a water show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet is hard to write... Anyways, thanks for the reviews and kudos from everybody. I spent the majority of time writing and re-writing Ratchet's dialogue. Still not happy with it. The debacle with Hot Rod, I wrote in half an hour. 
> 
> But I hope you like it!

Hot Rod’s faceplates were chrome crimson as he sat on Ratchet’s examination table. He kept his servos in his lap and tried to ignore his stinging chest. Ratchet was standing in front of him, looking at some charts on a datapad, measurements of the activity going on in his processor.

“Hot Rod?” He looked up; Ratchet was reading the chart with a slightly worried face. His mouth was open, but no words were coming out of his vocalizer. Roddy would have taken pictures if he wasn’t so wrapped up in what had happen not even a breem ago.

Honestly, the fact that Ratchet wasn’t saying anything was making Hot Rod a bit irritated. At this point, he was content to scramble back to his own quarters and curl up on his berth for the next lunar cycle, no matter who came banging on his door. The only thing keeping him from yelling at Ratchet to spit his words out was the fact that he didn’t want the medic to crack the data-pad over his helm.

However, Ratchet was paying attention to Roddy’s expression. The struggling expression melted into the crabby professionalism (or rather, the professional crabbiness) that was common to the medic.

“I’m trying to figure out where to start, youngling. Don’t think that I‘m not above adding a few dents to what I fixed.” His spark wasn’t completely in the threat. He actually looked like he was getting upset at whatever was on his pad. His optics moved over the lines frantically and his digits hit the screen hard enough to make Hot Rod wonder how it hadn’t broken.

Finally, Ratchet turned the pad of and pinched his nasal ridge between his index finger and thumb. He took a deep inhalation.

“Okay, you remember everything I told you last week?” Hot Rod nodded. "You remember everything I said about the potency about your beginning flow?" The speedster nodded again. “Good, makes this next part easier.”

“I’ve been talking with Wheeljack over this pad since…” Hot Rod looked away, faceplates redder than before.

“…Well,” Ratchet cleared his intake. “Hot Rod, this is hard to say and I have no doubt that you’ll be upset…” Hot Rod shifter nervously, but never took his optics of the silver and red mech.

“Your Carrier Protocols seem to have…for lack of a better term, “latched on” to Grimlock.” The ambulance rubbed the back of his helm while sporting a seemingly frustrated look.

“Is that it?” Hot Rod wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he was certain that there was something else.

“No…” Ratchet looked away and swore under his breath. Roddy had a feeling the Wheeljack was dead the next time Ratchet saw him.

“According to Wheeljack, the Dinobots have a few of the protocols associated with Sparklings. Meaning they are vulnerable to behavior changes that are triggered by the chemical composition of Carrier Energon.”

“So, what; whenever I see them, their going to attack me and rip off my chest plates if I don’t get away fast enough?” Hot Rod all but shouted.

“Essentially” Ratchet deadpanned.

Hot Rod held his helm in his servos and groaned.

“Wh-why do they even have those?”

“Wheeljack said that he thought they would be less confused and alienated if they at least had the triggered instincts of a natural born sparkling.”

If Ratchet expected to see sympathy on Hot Rod’s Faceplates, he wouldn’t be seeing it that day. Hot Rod was finding it difficult to feel pity for the prehistoric brute that had essentially just molested him in the hallway.

Ratchet tossed the data-pad onto Wheeljack’s messy workbench. “Alright, look; -”

Hot Rod did as he was told, looking at Ratchet as if he was a messenger from Primus.

“I can’t really do anything for you.” Ratchet said. “You have to let your protocols run their course.”

Hot Rod stood up with a frustrated look on his faceplate. “Then what do I do! Just let them ambush me and use me as their personal snack cart!”

“As much as I want to say no…” Ratchet held his servos up in a show of helplessness.

Hot Rod looked at him flabbergasted.

“Look, all I can tell you is that Carrier protocols send out unconscious signals that are picked up by those with Sparkling signatures, which Grimlock and most likely, the other Dinobots have as well.

“So…” Ratchet walked to the doorway, and motioned outward, signifying that it was time for Roddy to go. “…Best of luck and try an hot bath to soothe your pouches.”

Hot Rod walked out of the infirmary and when the door closed behind him, he suddenly felt very cold and exposed. He saw the splatter of energon on the wall and the floor where Grimlock had fed and his embarrassment returned.

He walked down the halls, jumping at every little noise. He passed Prowl, who only gave him a sideways glance from the corner of his optics, he saw Sideswipe and Sunstreaker who looked at him for a minute, but Hot Rod had already ducked around the corner.

He finally made it to the wash racks bumping into Bumblebee and mumbling a sorry. He looked and saw that the pool had recently been refilled. The heater was on a timer; it was active for only two hours in the morning and another two after dark. It could be manually started up to heat only a small portion of the pool, but it could be a bit unsettling to bathe in such a large area alone. 

But there was nothing Hot Rod would like more. He had a good twenty cycles before the heater shut off, which would allow him to soak his chestplates and wash the scent of energon and shame off his frame.

Hot Rod stepped in slowly, trying to acclimate to the hot water. He waded to the deeper end of the pool, but he was not so large that he could move to the very end. The deepest part of the pool would leave even Skyfire in over his helm. 

Roddy settled in so the water was up to his chin and, after looking over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, he opened his chestplates underwater. He shivered as his pouches were suddenly swamped with the water and he saw the water begin to cloud with purple as the energon flowed from his nubs.

Hot Rod let himself float and drift in the pool, feeling relaxed and invigorated; in fact he felt so good, that he didn’t really think of it when he felt himself floating into the deeper end. He casually pushed himself back into the shallower end. He had a bit of trouble getting the proper traction however.

Cybertronians can’t drown, as they don’t have the respiratory systems of organics. No, Hot Rod just wanted to get to where he could move better. But it actually seemed that he was being pushed away from the section that he wanted to reach. Pushed, or rather pulled. Roddy suddenly became aware of the tight grip on his pede. He tried frantically to get to the edge of the pool, floundering like a dynametal duck. Suddenly, Hot Rod was pulled under.

The bubbles and turbulence made it hard for Roddy to see what was happening. He felt himself being pulled further down and was pinned to the bottom of the pool. He felt something nudging against his chest and overstimulation from the hot water, the bubbles and the pressure of being pressed down overrode his conscious control.

He felt the familiar sting of something biting his pouches and he yelped, water muffling the sound. He looked around with disorientation for a moment before he finally looked down at who was suckling off of him. His sight was limited, but he could make out a massive black body and short stocky legs, but the most distinguishing feature was the long yellow neck; the arch of which was out of the water and the contrastingly small yellow head with its nose in his pouches.

Sludge

The Apatosaurus’ teeth weren’t as sharp as Grimlock’s, but he still had a powerful bite. Also, Sludge’s… “Slow wit” wasn’t really playing in _anyone’s_ favor in their current setting. Lacking lips like Grimlock, the energon wasn’t staying in Sludge’s mouth and instead made the water a murky purple; making Sludge frustrated. He couldn’t seem to connect the dots as to why he wasn’t getting the sweet smelling stuff down his throat.

And with denial, came frustration. Sludge began to shake Hot Rod back and forth against the pool bottom. Hot Rod’s back scrapped against the metal as the Dinobot bit harder. When that didn’t yield better results, the Apatosaurus began to shake him back and forth harder and off the floor. Hot Rod heard muffled splashing and knew that Sludge was making a scene on the surface. If anyone was around to see it 

Sludge pressed Hot Rod against the wall of the pool, and placed his massive clawed pede on Hot Rod’s legs. For a klik, Hot Rod thought Sludge was going to tear him in half; but it seemed that he only wanted to keep the sports car still.

But it still didn’t allow Sludge to get a drink.

Hot Rod knew what the problem was; he knew what needed to happen, he knew what wasn’t happening, he knew how to fix it and he knew how to let them both go home happy.

So why the **_SLAG_** did he not say and/or do so!

Why was he letting them walk all over him?

Hot Rod would love to take the time to answer those questions but he was shocked when Sludge lifted him out of the water and looked straight towards the ceiling, leaving Roddy to lay on his nose with his pouch still in his mouth. Hot Rod wrapped his legs around Sludge’s neck, right behind his head and gripped Sludge behind the optics as hard as he could. Sludge froze for a minute and Hot Rod became aware of the massive height that Sludge lifted him to and the steady dripping of water off of his frame made him feel tiny.

Sludge let out a tiny growl, not as deep or as menacing as Grimlock’s but Sludge had the same glazed and aggressive look. Sludge let out a loud and slow gulp. Hot Rod felt his pouch draining and he swore he heard it go down the straight line of Sludge’s throat.

Sludge rumbled against Hot Rod’s pouches and it sent a strong vibration through him. Hot Rod didn’t want to look at the ground or the water, as it made his gyro spin. So he focused on Sludge’s optics. Sludge looked more focused now than Hot Rod had ever seen him. He seemed fascinated with Hot Rod’s frame, focusing everywhere but on his face. He occasionally shuttered his optics with satisfaction and contentment; occasionally a clicking noise could be heard from inside of his mouth. It seemed that, even though they didn’t have lips, Dinobots could still make a sucking noise. Hot Rod saw the rim of Sludge’s mouth flex and bend slightly; maybe they could learn to suckle properly.

Hot Rod winced as Sludge tightened his grip, _“With a bit a practice, in a few years…”_ The speedster thought.

But what Hot Rod noticed the most, was Sludge’s EM field. Sludge was giving off feelings of contentment, pleasure and ease. Sludge was happy, not that Hot Rod was in a compromising position, but that he felt something warm and soft.

Hot Rod didn’t feel this with Grimlock. Had he been too absorbed in the situation? Had Grimlock hidden his feelings? Hot Rod didn’t really get a chance to think at that point, because Sludge had decided he was done.

Fortunately, Sludge didn’t just outright drop him. Sludge lowered his head towards the part of the pool that was shallow enough for him to stand up and looked straight forwards; so Hot Rod could carry his own weight. Sludge let him go so he fell down with a splash. Hot Rod hit the bottom with a thunk and he tried to regain his footing. When he was on his feet, he saw Sludge staring at him. Sludge blinked for a minute and then walked past Hot Rod. Sludge stepped out of the pool, dripping and soaked, and left the wash racks without a word.

Hot Rod was left standing in the pool, shivering cold. The heater had long since turned off. Had Sludge held him out of the water for that long? 

Roddy looked at his pouches. He saw the new marks, the re-aggravated old marks and the dripping energon.

Hot Rod felt a wave a frustration. He would need to restart the heater; he needed another wash…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave Kudos and Reviews and tell me who you want to see next. I think I know who'll I'll do next, but if it isn't who you want, don't worry; I'm going to do all the Dinobots. Also, I'm still thinking of what other characters I want to show. Leave feedback and ideas.
> 
> Also, please Review, even if you don't anything in particular you want to say. As long as it isn't flame, I like to hear what you all have to say!

**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue?


End file.
